


Feels Like Coming Home

by mickeym



Category: Popslash
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-04-17
Updated: 2003-04-17
Packaged: 2017-10-09 02:37:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/82134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mickeym/pseuds/mickeym
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>JC makes Justin feel safe, but lately Justin wants more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feels Like Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

> _for Dacey, for her birthday._

The public saw them as five guys who danced and made music. The world watched them evolve slowly; watched them grow from word-of-mouth into a pop machine monster the size of the Beatles.

The world saw them as big, saw something that belonged to everyone, a public commodity, nothing private or sacred, everything open to view.

The world didn't see everything.

~~~~~~

They snuggle together, all of them, on each other, near each other, sharing body heat and taking comfort from one another.

Germany is cold, and big, and a little scary. Justin's been in the biz long enough to hide his feelings, mostly; he can be – is – as professional as Chris, and JC, and Joey. Lance follows what the rest of them do, but he's getting it, too.

At first, Justin and Lance snuggle together the most, curling around each other while they watch television, after homework. They're close in age, and they have things in common, and so they can talk about them. And Lance is even more scared, in some ways, than Justin. But Lance has a…thing…for Chris, a crush that's promising to be more, given the chance, and so seeks him out whenever possible. After a while, Justin stops looking for him in between performances, or when they're loading up the van, or dividing up the hotel room assignments.

He starts looking for JC; remembers days long past on the MMC set, in between takes, when JC let him slump against him, when JC would pet him and laugh at his attempts at jokes.

JC lets him slump against him again, now. Justin doesn't even have to say anything, he just—shows up, and JC scoots over, makes room for him, stretches an arm out for Justin to wiggle under.

JC's been his friend for so long, and Justin's grateful for that bond between them, for the familiarity when they move from country, to country, to yet another country; ping-ponging between home and all the rest of the world. He's enjoying the ride, but he's shaken, off-balance, trying to hold on to things that keep changing all around him – names, faces, languages, routines, everything.

Sometimes he dreams about the fans screaming their names, yelling, "I love you" in their native tongues, or in broken English. Sometimes he dreams he's caught in a massive, swirling vortex of grabbing arms and hands, a hungry mass of open mouths and wild eyes.

JC doesn't seem to mind when Justin sneaks into his room, to squish into bed with him, even on the narrow twins that so many of the European hotel rooms boast.

He always tries to explain, guilty over waking JC up from his meager allotment of sleep. "I—"

JC just yawns and scoots slowly. "Another bad dream, man?" When Justin nods hesitantly JC always smiles and holds the blanket up. "Get in, and get some sleep. Gotta be up early."

It's a tight fit for a slender, but grown man, and a still-rapidly-growing boy, but JC just curls himself around Justin and mumbles in a sleep-heavy voice, shushing his desperate whispers of fear, calming and soothing him, wiping tears away without comment.

"I hate this," Justin mutters into the pillow, or JC's arm. Whichever he happens to be resting against. He's not talking about the cuddling, and he never has to explain. JC always seems to know.

"S'okay, man. Sleep now. I gotcha, J," is what JC whispers into Justin's neck as he drifts off again, fingers carding gently through Justin's curls, or stroking his arm slowly.

Justin never has bad dreams when he sleeps with JC. He's not even sure he dreams, because he doesn't remember anything, but he figures if he doesn't remember them, they couldn't be bad.

~~~~~~

They're nobodies at home, when they go back there for good, released from the gracious promise of Europe in general, and Germany in particular.

Nobodies, but with the promise of becoming somebodies. Because they've proven they'll work hard, do any appearance, sing anywhere someone wants them.

Chris and Lance have a thing, now, but Chris dates Dani publicly, so no one suspects anything. Justin thinks it's kind of sad they can't just have each other, with no one else getting in between, even if it's superficially.

He tells JC this, one evening when they're lazing around on one of the beds in what is technically Chris and JC's room, while Chris and Lance spend some 'quality time' in what is technically Justin and Lance's room. Justin's not sure where Joey is; he considers asking JC, but JC's smiling sadly at him.

"That's probably how it'll always be, man. As long as there's Nsync, we don't really belong to ourselves."

Justin shifts on the bed so he's closer to JC. It's cold as hell in this room, even after messing with the air conditioning controls. "That's kind of a shitty trade-off for fame, yo." 'Fame' still being having small pockets of girls cheering and screaming for them, when they do performances. Then Justin remembers his nightmares in Germany, and actually doesn't mind that things are still low-key here. "I don't know…is it worth it, if you have to hide it?"

"Love's always worth it, Justin." JC's voice is sharp, sharper than Justin remembers it ever being, outside the recording studio, and that surprises him. JC's always a laid-back kind of guy unless they're recording. "One-nighters don't count, man. At all. And anyway—what about Britney?"

"What about Britney?" Justin's never sure what he thinks about Britney. On the one hand, she's cute, but—he's not completely sure he's all het up on chicks. He kinda liked the guys who would dance with them in the clubs in Europe – on those rare occasions he got to go out.

"Aren't you guys—" JC makes a vague gesture that could mean anything from 'just friends' to 'fucking like minks', though Justin doubts it's the latter.

"Friends, C. We're friends. She's cute. And nice." He shrugs. "Someone else to talk to, y'know?"

"Mmmm." JC shifts so he's rolled against Justin, arm curling around Justin's waist. He's already half asleep, his breathing evening out, warm and a little moist against the thin cotton of Justin's t-shirt. It's comfortable like this, and Justin dozes off himself, feeling safe, the drone of the television on low a good match for JC snoring softly in his ear.

~~~~~~

His nightmares stop for the most part as he adjusts to the slower onset of fame, and he finds himself feeling awkward at the thought of just randomly getting into bed with JC – even though JC tells him it's no big deal.

"Seriously, J. I don't care."

"I know." He scuffs a foot against the concrete; they're outside, doing a photo shoot, enjoying the sun and the blue skies, and right now it's in between takes and they're just chilling. "I just—. Lou said. Um, image, y'know?"

"Image—" JC frowns and catches Justin's chin, makes him look up. "What…exactly, did Lou say?"

"Just that we all hang on each other too much. Like, um. You. I mean—I hang on you too much." Justin's face is red; he feels hot. He's not sure if it's embarrassment, though, or something else. Because, at this angle—he's never realized before how pretty JC's eyes are. And wow, there's a thought to blow him out of the water. He swallows and pulls away, and JC lets him go, still frowning.

"I think that's kind of something for us to worry about, and not Lou." He's scanning the area, and Justin knows he's looking for Chris, so he says,

"No—I mean. It's cool. I'm a big boy, y'know." He grins and JC smiles back, and yeah, there's that flash again. "I don't need to be bugging you all the time."

"Well, y'know. Any time, man." JC shrugs. "It's not like it’s a hardship to hang with a friend."

Justin wants to point out that even he knows there's a world of difference between 'hanging with a friend' and sharing a bed – no matter how innocently – but he doesn't. Instead, he tucks away the knowledge that JC obviously likes it, too, and decides he kind of likes the warm glow that brings.

~~~~~~

He starts crawling back into bed with JC during the lawsuit.

Nightmares he hadn't had in over a year resurface, except this time it's Lou, all fat hands and beady eyes, pawing at him. At them. Screaming and hollering, and accusing.

The first time it happens Justin panics when he wakes up, because he's alone in his mom's house; she and Paul are away for a much-needed weekend to themselves. He can't breathe, and he's sweating, and crying, and oh, god, the _hands_. There were a hundred Lou's in his dream, all grabbing for him, trying to touch him and hold him and keep him from escaping. Justin watches TV in the living room for the rest of the night, finally falling into a fitful doze just about dawn, the sound of MTV buzzing in the background.

He's still on the couch, dark circles under his eyes, his hair plastered to his skull with dried sweat, when JC comes over the next morning to check on him.

"I'll stay over tonight," JC says quietly, and Justin wants to tell him that's not necessary, that he's eighteen years old, he can take care of himself. Instead he nods.

"Thanks."

JC hugs him, and it's not mentioned again, but he has the blankets already turned back on the guest bed when Justin shows up later that night.

~~~~~~

_Strings_ is bigger than any of them could've predicted. _They're_ bigger than any of them could've predicted.

Superstardom blows Justin away, when he stops to think about it for very long. So he doesn't. Think about it. Instead he thinks about music, and singing, and dancing, and choreography, and family and friends, and his four closer-than-brothers-could-ever-be bandmates, and sometimes late at night, when everyone's asleep, he thinks about JC. Just JC.

He thinks about how long he's known him – almost eight years, now. He thinks about how goofy JC was, at first, but how pretty he is now. He thinks about how nice JC is, how he always makes Justin feel safe, and he's always there to listen if someone needs to talk, and the way he never says anything bad about anyone…not even Lou. JC couldn't even say bad things about Lou, in the midst of Lou trying to screw them over.

Thoughts of Lou manage to kill off the happy thoughts about JC, and Justin thinks that's just wrong, so he settles his brain back onto JC-thoughts. How he's smart, and talented, and lately…sexy. Really sexy.

Those are confusing thoughts, actually. Justin rolls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling, wishing he could sleep and not really sure why he can't. He's so tired his brain hurts – along with every atom of his body – but he can't seem to stop the swirling thoughts, zig-zagging all around inside his head, JC's face zooming into focus, then moving away again. Maybe it's from the way he moved at the club earlier in the evening. Or the extra shimmy of his hips during Space Cowboy. Or the obvious pleasure JC gets from performing – visible to anyone who has eyes.

Maybe it's the way lately, JC's eyes linger on pretty boys more often than pretty girls, and sometimes, even more recently, and only once in a while, when Justin's not supposed to be looking…the way they linger on him.

He slides one hand down his chest and shivers at the tingles of pleasure bursting all along his nerve endings. He's already half-hard, and that's confusing, too. Oh, not the hard-on, but thinking – knowing – it's because he's thinking about JC.

JC used to be safe for him, but lately…he's anything but.

Blue eyes. Brown hair. Long, lean body. Bendy body. Justin slips his shorts off, then touches himself, curls his fingers around himself and strokes gently, slowly, eyes fluttering closed. He's listened to Chris teasing JC about what a 'dirty, nasty boy' he is, humping and licking the stage, thrusting his pelvis forward in obvious pantomime of sex. JC always laughs.

"I like being a nasty boy," he says, and winks.

Justin pictures that wink now, pictures JC licking the stage…licking him…as he picks up speed on his strokes. His cock throbs within the tunnel of his hand, and his balls ache, drawing up tight against his body as he gets closer. JC. Licking. Touching. He shudders at the thought of JC's hands on him, fingers stroking, touching, teasing. He sucks one finger wet and reaches between his legs, behind his balls, strokes over the ring of muscle there. He's so hot, imagining JC touching him, fingering him, and he gasps when his finger slides inward, balls tightening one last time before he shoots, warm, thick liquid dripping over his fingers, spattering his stomach while his head spins and colors flash in the darkness behind his eyelids.

When he's recovered enough to swipe at his stomach with the sheet, it sinks in what he did. He jerked off.

Thinking about JC.

He gets out of bed fumbles his shorts back on, then slinks through the unlocked, adjoining door into JC's room.  He stands beside the bed for a moment, looking down. JC makes him happy. Looking at JC makes him happy. Happy enough he jerked off, thinking about him. Justin's pretty sure that's all kinds of fucked up, but really, he doesn't care. He stands there and watches JC sleep until some inner sense of JC's wakes him enough to be aware of Justin.

"Mmm…J--?"

"Yeah."

"Wha's wrong?" Solemn eyes blink at him, sleep-fogged and unfocused, but Justin knows he has JC's full attention. He shivers happily at the warmth trickling through him with that thought. "Can't sleep?"

He shakes his head no, and shivers again when JC rolls toward the center of the bed, lifting the covers up. He's pretty sure he shouldn't do this; he's sure he smells like spunk, and even as mostly asleep as JC is, it'll only take him a minute to figure out what Justin was doing before he came in here.

But he doesn't say a word, just wraps himself around Justin like a living blanket, face nuzzled into the curve of Justin's neck. JC's asleep by the time Justin finishes curling back into him, and it doesn't take him any time at all to slide toward sleep, too, wrapped JC's warmth.

~~~~~~

 

JC watches him closely over breakfast. Watches every bite he takes, watches every time Justin swallows. It's unnerving as hell, but it's—nice, too.

He woke up with one of JC's hands spread over his stomach like a starfish, and the other cupping his dick, fingers curled loosely around him through his shorts. Behind him, JC pressed closely against him, and he could feel the throb of his erection with every breath JC took; it was all Justin could do to keep from wiggling back and whispering for JC to do whatever it was his hands and cock obviously wanted to do. It'd been a close thing, getting out of that bed and out of that room, and into his own, before he came in his shorts.

He swallows another bite of cereal and watches a small smile play across JC's face.

Chris throws a toast crust at him. "Chasez. Dude."

Justin misses it when JC switches his gaze to Chris. "Hmm? What, Chris?"

"Dude. You're staring. Justin doesn't have anything wrong with his face, y'know. Just—same face he's had all along."

"No, I know." JC looks at him again and that tingling he felt last night starts spreading through him again.

"Then, what the hell?" Chris throws another toast crust toward JC, and Joey slaps his hand.

"Dude, that's my toast you're tossing. Hands off."

"Bite me, Fatone." But Chris pulls his hands away, eyeing Joey warily.

"Leave 'im alone, Chris." Lance pokes Chris in the side, and Joey pokes him in the other side, and in between snorts and snarls, Justin catches Lance looking between him and JC, and smiling.

There's something different, this morning. And not just on his end, not just because of—the jerking off last night. The connection between him and JC…has grown. There's been an air of…expectancy, for a while, now, Justin thinks, and suddenly, it's materialized into something tangible. He feels it, almost a living presence, whenever JC looks at him. It's a tingle of something hot and cool all at once, ghosting over his skin, rippling along his nerve endings. It's familiar, and not, and Justin wants to reach out and grasp it, but it remains just a bit too elusive.

~~~~~~

"Dude. You're staring at him again." This time it's Joey, and they're half an hour out from show time, chilling in the Quiet Room, and Justin bites his tongue to keep from telling the other guys it's okay if JC wants to stare at him. He's starting to really enjoy the low-level buzz from it.

"He's pretty, Joey." JC winks at him when he says it, but there's a heat in his eyes that's never been there before. Justin shivers involuntarily and fumbles the knot on his bandana.

"Fuck, C, you're freakin' the kid out." Chris yanks Justin around impatiently and reties the knot. Justin yelps when he manages to yank a hunk of hair at the same time. He slaps at Chris' hands and jerks away.

"He's not freaking me out, yo. And 'the kid' is perfectly capable of speaking for himself, if that were the case." Justin rolls his shoulders; his shirt feels odd tonight, and he wonders if its possible he's grown some more. He grins at JC, then looks pointedly at Chris and Joey. "And y'all can fuck off any time, too."

"Ungrateful infant." But Chris lets Lance lead him off to the Toy Room, and Joey follows, and Justin's left standing there in the Quiet Room, staring at JC. Who stares back, then steps closer.

Really closer.

"Am I freaking you out?"  Justin shakes his head and prays his knees don't start knocking together. He wouldn't call it freaked out, exactly, but—something. JC smiles and touches his face, cups it before brushing his thumb over Justin's mouth gently. It feels like butterfly wings fluttering against his skin, and he shivers. "I—woke up, once, before you, this morning." JC comes a little closer, and Justin can smell the light, fresh scent of JC's bodywash and deodorant. Close enough he can see the tiny prickles of stubble through stage makeup. "You felt—it felt right, holding you. I wanted…want…more, J. I don't want you coming in the night, just because you can't sleep, or you've had a nightmare. I'd like you there all the time."

Then it's JC kissing him, mouth warm and soft against his, just a soft brush of lips, another of JC's tongue, licking at his lips. Tasting him. Justin sighs and opens his mouth and shudders happily when JC licks all around the inside of his mouth slowly, a soft sound of pleasure swallowed up between them.

The door opens behind them, but Justin doesn't care. It'll be one of the guys, who, at this point can't not have figured things out. Lance coughs discretely, and JC pulls away and smiles.

"Hate to interrupt, but—hackey time."

"Be right there," Justin says, not even looking over his shoulder. The door closes again. JC's still smiling, but it's different again. A new look. Justin wants to kiss him again, really bad. "No time, huh?"

"Not now." JC cups his face again, though, and brushes another kiss across Justin's mouth. "Later," he whispers. Then, "God, you taste sweet."

"You too." Justin sways toward JC, catches himself when the door opens again, more forcefully this time.

"Guys. Hackey. Now."

The look JC gives him as they exit the room keeps Justin warm and tingly all through the concert.

~~~~~~

For the first time in—as long as he can remember, Justin knocks on JC's door before entering. Knocks, and waits for "C'mon in," before he uses the card key JC pressed into his hand right after the concert.

He stands in the doorway for a minute, watching JC. It's not like he's never seen him before; it's not even like he hasn't seen him recently. Justin's watched the whole JC-getting-ready-for-bed routine so many times he could probably do it himself. In his sleep. No, this time is different, because tonight, he's starting out in bed with JC.

"You sure about this?" JC pauses in hanging up his clothes, and looks at Justin. "I, um. I kinda—I was pushy, earlier, I think. So, if you're having doubts, or you're not interested—"

Justin smiles at that and shakes his head. "I think we both know I'm interested," he says softly. "I just—this is. Kinda new, y'know?" He swallows. "New, but not. And I'm not…I'm not scared. Just—have we been heading this way all this time?" The words come out in a rush, and JC looks startled for a minute, then smiles.

"Maybe? I dunno, J. I just—" He takes Justin's hand and draws him into the room, gives him a gentle push 'til he sits on the side of the bed. "At first? No. But lately…yeah. It felt good. Holding you. Good in a way it didn't, before, y'know?"

Justin nods. "Yeah. Dude. I really know." He grins and stretches backward. "You coming to bed?"

"Hell, yes." JC bounces up and Justin watches in amusement as he turns out the lights around the room, double-checks the door lock, and the lock on the connecting room. "We don't need company tonight. I had a hard enough time convincing Chris to get out, the first time. Thank god for Lance."

"Mmm." Justin curls onto his side and reaches out to touch. He can touch now, and it's like a revelation, when he does. JC's warm, where Justin drags his fingertips lightly, and he can feel the shiver through where their skin meets.

"Justin." JC shifts closer and kisses him gently, then harder, pressing him back onto the bed. It's a long, hot kiss, tongues sliding against each other, mouths working wetly to taste and tease as much as possible. Justin forgets he's nervous, can't actually think about anything but how good JC feels against him—bare skin against bare skin, only shorts separating them, and this time they can touch, with purpose other than to comfort.

"Oh—god." He moans, he can't help it. JC's moving against him…rocking into him. Not hard, not yet, but getting there. It feels so. fucking. good.  His skin is goosebumped, and hyperaware of each place JC touches; it's like electricity, or flames, crawling slowly over him. Flames burning him, but god, what a good feeling. Justin moans again and arches up against JC, and yeah, they're both hard now, and Justin wants to feel JC against him so bad, completely bare. He pulls away from JC with a gasp. "Shorts, yo. Off. Please."

JC hisses an agreement, and they jerk at each other's until they can kick both pairs off the side of the bed. Justin feels shy again, suddenly, until JC slides against him, and then it's heat. Just heat, and pleasure, and Justin wonders why it took them as long as it did to get to this point. He wriggles beneath JC and works one leg up and around, holding JC close so they can rub faster, harder. He can hardly breathe, but doesn't care, leans up to kiss JC anyway, wanting connection anywhere possible.

It's been a long time, and it's never been as good as this. With anyone. JC moans into his mouth and Justin bites at his lip, tugs on it just a little, then licks at the sting he leaves. JC moans again and shudders against him, and Justin bites at his lips again, then his jaw, licking at the prickles of stubble. They're rough against his tongue, but he likes it. Loves it. All of it. Then JC's neck, his throat, quick little bites, nipping and sucking, tasting as much of the clean, saltysweet skin as he can.

JC growls low in his throat when Justin bites just a little too hard and kisses him again, licking into his mouth roughly. Justin moans and opens wide, thrusts upward as heat coils hard and tight in his belly, then winds outward. They're sliding against each other, bodies slick with sweat, with pre-come, cocks rubbing together in a constant rhythm.  "C…oh, my—"

"Yeah…yeah…" The words are more pants of air than anything, and JC growls something else into Justin's mouth, and grinds down against him, and that's all he needs, all they need. Justin feels slick heat spread between them an instant before fire shoots up his spine, then pools in his groin. He comes with a long, low groan, arching up against JC, who's still writhing slowly against him.

They rest, panting against each other, kissing in between breaths, until JC shifts gingerly, making a face at the sticky mess. "Ugh."

"Yeah." Justin sits up and reaches for his shorts, not kicked all the way off after all. They wipe each other down, slowly, and Justin shivers when JC shifts down to lick at his stomach, before kissing him again. It's wild, to taste himself like that, mingled with JC, and heat stirs again, a smooth glow that spreads slowly within him. "God, C."

JC laughs at that, and pulls Justin close for another kiss, this one softer, lingering, but not like the others. Tasting, learning, but not meaning to arouse. Justin moves against him, sighs when JC pulls away with a soft laugh. "You're greedy."

"Yeah." Heat rises in his cheeks, and Justin's glad it's dim in the room. "But—"

"It's okay, J. I want more. A lot more." Another gentle kiss. "But later. After we sleep a while." He licks at Justin's mouth. "For now? I want to sleep…and know that I can wake you up later, the way I've wanted to wake you up for a while."

Justin shivers, then turns in JC's arms. "Sounds good to me, man." He closes his eyes and smiles when JC kisses his neck. He is sleepy, and now the adrenaline's wearing off. JC nuzzles again, but Justin can tell from a lot of past experience he's already almost asleep. He's always envied JC that.

The last thing he notices before sliding into sleep, is JC spreading his hand across Justin's stomach, kind of like a starfish.

~fin~

 


End file.
